"Huh," Spike shrugged as he gazed at his reflection, "neat wings."
Garble rolled his eyes. "Geez, who would've thought?"
Spike stuck his tongue out at his roommate. "How about a flying competition, then?" He snapped.
Garble grunted. "Sheesh, you're becoming like that Rainbow Sash or whatever pony."
Spike and Garble stood side by side at the top of Conveniently Placed Mountain. A frigid breeze washed over the two as they readied themselves for flight.
"Ready?" Spike asked, flexing his relatively new wings in preparation.
Garble scoffed. "Ready as you mother, Spikey-Wikey."
Spike gritted his teeth.
And then the race began.
And went.
And went...
And it continued...
And the author began to wonder why he was doing this...
And they continued...
And then Garble smacked into Holder's Boulder.